Not sure if I’m late or not but here is my latest entry for @naruto-fantasy-week, a prompt for Day 5! I doubt I’ll have enough time to eek out fanfics with the last two prompts before the event ends but I’ll eventually write them and post them anyway and go back to this fanfic and the previous to spruce them up and expand on the ideas I came up with for each fanfic/prompt.
There is some violence mentioned and acted upon, especially in the end, but it’s nothing too graphic. And as a fun tidbit, cantarella was a poison rumored to be used by the Borgias but since there’s not a whole lot of evidence the poison exists, I took artistic license with it to suit my purpose of this story.
The title derives from the lyrics of Nightwish’s song “7 Days to the Wolves”.
Summary: He was a man of many faces, shapes, and ideas. Unfortunately, shapeshifters like him were a prize to be captured and then used for gladiator arenas. While he was used to the killing that didn’t mean Orochimaru never stopped contemplating his revenge. Who would have thought he would find another shapeshifter hidden right under Danzo’s nose? Naruto Fantasy Week, Day 5. Prompt: Shapeshifters. [Orochimaru x Sakura]
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“Serpents were in my heart.” — Mary Shelley, The Mortal Immortal
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The white wyrm rested, and waited, in anticipation for that small cellar door to open and here the sounds of the humans issuing orders at him, telling him how lucky he was that a wretched snake, a shapeshifter, continued to live under the generous hospitality of Danzo, and if he continued to do his part in the fighting pits, he would be fed and not lose any of his scales.
Orochimaru snarled at the door, wishing he could snap the wood in two and break the bones of the sentries posted outside his door. He heard that same annoying speech approximately 5475 times, once a day, for the last fifteen years. And sometimes they lied, for after battles, if he ended the match too quickly or gave his hapless opponent a swift, clean, and painless death, they’d drug him and pry a few of his white scales off, while the magic they used to bind and control his shapeshifting restrained him from unable to lash out. Such actions served to not only remind Orochimaru of who was in charge of his life and to sell his pearlescent scales to the highest bidder, adding a hefty, lucrative amount to Danzo’s coffers.
One of these days, he was going to swallow Danzo whole and let that fool slowly digest in his stomach. His death would be slow, agonizing, and very satisfying.
A guard eventually did open his chamber door, recited the boring, useless drivel Orochimaru heard over thousand times before nodding over to the masked mage at his side. The unknown mage wore a rodent-like mask, different from the last mage who temporarily lifted the block on his shapeshifting.
“Danzo requests your presence, your human presence, at his side. The next match is starting soon.” informed the masked mage once the yellow glow departed from his outstretched hand. Orochimaru narrowed his slitted golden eyes dangerously. He remembered what happened when they first allowed him to change shapes, to assume his human form. He acted all compliant and understanding, lulling them in a false sense of security right before he first bite off the head of the mage, then a nearby guard, before shifting out of his wyrm body and back into his human self to escape the narrow door and grab the first weapon he could find to slay the other guard who was about to raise the alarm of his escape. He was eventually recaptured before he could leave the keep, home of the fighting pits, and was whipped brutally for his attempt. Yet through it all, Orochimaru still had to laugh bitterly at their earlier carelessness. Did they not forget who he was and why Danzo decided to let him live after his greatest transgression (besides being a shapeshifter)?
Before the village discovered his identity of a shapeshifter–creatures the elders condemned as monsters, only fit for extermination–, he was a trained warrior, a skilled killer who served the town while keeping his snake-like gilded eyes hidden in his youth through glamor or shaded spectacles. His parents could hide their natural heritage and appearances better with simple alterations and had no need for glamor, since they were older and more experienced shapeshifters. Yet all their years of experience and aptitude didn’t save them from being slaughtered–by the orders of Danzo. And Sarutobi, the village’s main leader, Orochimaru’s very teacher, turned a blind eye, and let the cloak-and-dagger execution happen. And then promptly turned around to lie to his young pupil’s grief-stricken face about his parents’ deaths.
He didn’t regret killing that old bastard for lying to him after all those years. He may have not wanted his parents to die or issued the decree but his negligence, his cowardice, and acceptance of shapeshifters being lesser beings, like animals, made him just as guilty as Danzo, who hung up his parents’ skins up on his office for all to see. He had forced one of them to turn into a large serpent and the other, a small dragon, all so he could use their hide as a trophy. Such disfigurement was the most traumatizing death any shapeshifter could experience, especially if their corpse was paraded around like a proud prize for humans to gawk at.
Orochimaru was left alone in his cell once more so he could transform back into a human and change into the clothes that were left for him. Those robes were always placed so neatly in the corner, waiting for him, when he was permitted to be human. His scaly body was soon a tall, lean pale man with long, silky black hair, and he kept his signature, curved golden eyes with dark purple markings around the eyelids. Everyone already knew who he really was so why bother mask his true appearance?
By the time he was escorted and brought to Danzo, the power-hungry man was already barking orders at the serving girls to bring him more sake and food. For Orochimaru, he simply inclined his head, inviting him to take a seat and watch the upcoming match. Just like always, whenever he planned to sic some unfortunate soul in the ring with him, as a wyrm. He wanted Orochimaru to study the gladiator’s fighting techniques and movements beforehand, a sure sign that he wanted his opponent to die in the battle arena.
Most likely a political opponent of Danzo’s or a dissenter he labeled as a ‘traitor’. My, my, he’s finding so many of them these days.
The fighter down below was fast, Orochimaru would give him that, but strategy was not his forte. He dodged most of his larger foe’s attacks and was more of the type to wear his assailant down until they became exhausted and made mistakes. And he repeated his defensive blows often, another tactical error. Basically, his onslaught with him would hardly be a worthy match.
Sighing in disappointment, Orochimaru helped himself to a goblet of water, draining its contents dry before setting the cup back down. As if on cue, one of the serving maids rushed up to him to refill his drink. He turned around, about to politely thank her (after all, unlike some, he actually had manners), and he heard a sharp intake of breath. When a pink haired server came into his line of vision, his nostrils flared, and her green eyes stared at him surprise. He understood her reaction.
Here, amidst Danzo’s private posse of servants, trusted men, and soldiers, was another shapeshifter. And unlike him, she was not branded or wearing chains that restricted or prohibited her from transforming into other animals or people. Which meant…
Danzo doesn’t know she’s a shapeshifter. How bloody rich.
If he wasn’t in the presence of Danzo’s oh so charming company, he’d laugh viciously at the irony right there, on the spot.
The girl–no, young woman–whoever she was, fumbled with the pitcher during her moment of distraction and quickly averted her gaze to focus on not making an entire mess of the water and attracting the unwanted attention of Danzo. Meanwhile, as she concentrated solely on watching the water rise in his metallic goblet, Orochimaru leaned forwarded and whispered in her ear.
“Be careful, little one. Better stick to the shadows, lest someone gets suspicious and uncovers your secret. Then you’ll be chained, just like me.”
That mocking warning startled her but she uttered nothing. She merely finished filling up his cup and returned to her original location, off to the corner and out of sight. Yet she did sneak a glance over her shoulder to get a glimpse of him one more time before she returned to her duties and he resumed his bored review of the fighting before him. Hopefully, that fledgling shapeshifter had enough sense in her to realize she risked more than just her life staying here and would quit the village in the dead of the night.
There was no need for this putrid city to have two shapeshifters under their control or be responsible for another’s one death.
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He was wrong about the other shapeshifter.
She must be lacking wits, to sneak past all the guards just so she could creep into his cell and offer him water and leftover food from the kitchens. Some might call her courageous but all Orochimaru beheld was a foolhardy woman who should have left Danzo’s service, packed her bags, and left this godforsaken place already.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he hissed, revealing his rows of sharp, venomous teeth.
The roseate haired shapeshifter ignored him, setting down a jug of water, scraps of chicken, pheasant, beef, and wild boar. The tender, seasoned meats and the spices cooked into its juices wafted through his nose and he eyed the meal curiously.
“I never thought I would see another shapeshifter,” she began, inching the food tray closer to him. “Especially one imprisoned by Danzo. I thought he had a strict ‘kill every single shapeshifter I see’ policy.”
He chuckled dryly. “He does, unless he wants to use you for his own purposes. But why are you here to see me? You risk torture and certain death should the guards notice you.”
“But I wanted to see you!” she protested. “I haven’t seen, much less talked to another shapeshifter in years. Especially one who could help me–teach me, that is!”
“Teach you what?” Orochimaru finally decided to sate his hunger and first devour the bits of pheasant, relieved to find that the chef didn’t use too much pepper and balanced the amount of herbs just right.
“To change into larger, stronger creatures,” she explained, verdant eyes sparkling with hope. “You see, I was adopted by humans and they didn’t know my true heritage. So I had to learn how to transform on my own or scavenge for any books left behind by shapeshifters for helpful tips. I can do small animals and creatures but nothing as big or impressive as this.” She gestured to his wyrm body.
That explains how she was able to skulk past all the sentries.
“Why should I help you?” Orochimaru cut in, cocking his big, heavy head at her. “Why stay here, talking to me, instead of departing this wretched town and start searching our own kind? Surely, someone there can help you better than I.”
Her green eyes leveled with his amber ones, resolute and dark. “Because I crave to kill that bastard Danzo and I believe you’ll help me do that. And besides, I want to help you escape this horrible place.”
She didn’t even know him and yet, she wanted to help set him free. This shapeshifter was a strange creature, but he understood the hunger for revenge. It was a language he fathomed all too well and the burning desire had kept him going for all these torturous fifteen years. Danzo expected him to try to escape again or at least, try to murder him, but he didn’t anticipate her. And that raised the odds a little in their favor.
“What an intriguing proposal,” he practically purred, his breathing fanning against her face and causing her pink hair to billow out behind her. “In exchange for me training you in how to change into more complex forms, you’ll help me escape from this dungeon, and somehow, together, we’ll kill Danzo. Is that correct?”
She nodded firmly. “Yes. And I don’t care how long the training takes. I want, no need, to master my shapeshifting.”
At least she was dedicated, eager to learn. Orochimaru couldn’t abide small-minded people and those who had no drive, no interest in acquiring more knowledge and skills.
Either way, he was trapped underneath the fighting pits, with nothing else better to do so why not? At least this way, he wouldn’t be so dreadfully bored.
“Very well, I will accept this offer. However, I will need to know the name of my pupil. It’s only polite after all.” He forked his long tongue at her, amused when he startled her a little.
“It’s Sakura.” She bowed her head in reverence. When was the last time someone gifted even a small measure of respect like that? “What’s yours? I need to know the name of my teacher too.”
He grinned wide, knowing full well his face probably appeared utterly monstrous and terrifying but to Sakura’s credit, she didn’t flinch or scramble away from him in supreme terror.
Good.
“Orochimaru. Now, let us begin with your first lesson.”
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Contrary to the popular belief among humans, shapeshifters didn’t magically obtain knowledge on how to transfer into every creature or animal in existence overnight. Each attempt took time, energy, training, and practice to learn, control, and master each form, so a shapeshifter could not only move and talk in their new form but stay in it for long periods of time. The same went to altering their human appearance or body completely.
So his lessons with Sakura continued for years as she made progress with more medium sized animals or changing her human self to the point no one would recognize her. He never inquired why she wanted Danzo dead so much because that was none of his business and right now, he was not that interested in prying into her personal affairs. In return, she never asked what he did to be imprisoned so cruelly by Danzo. However, he did not miss the way her eyes would linger over his old scars or small, open patches of flesh where his scales once were and her face would scrunch up into pure, indignant rage. It was adorable, actually.
Yet he could hardly say the same whenever she was too exhausted in her training to head back to her room and go to sleep in her bed. Instead, Sakura would simply collapse amidst his coiled, scaly body and wrapped her arms around him, almost as if she was giving him a hug. Part of her features were usually resting up against his neck, so near his face that half of the time Orochimaru was tempted to shake his head or move around to jostle Sakura out of her slumber but something always prevented him from doing so. Maybe it was pity seeing how weary she was, juggling her servant duties, making sure her identity as a shapeshifter is still a secret, and then sneaking into his cell during the night to receive more lessons from him. She probably didn’t even realize she was falling asleep on him. Regardless, Orochimaru allowed this habit of hers to continue and only waited a few hours later to carefully wake her up and remind her to get back to her room before the sun rose and the other servants inquired about her absence. The routine turned into a cycle he had no motivation to stop.
While Sakura was improving with her shapeshifting and finally could move onto the larger creatures, they began to discuss, in all seriousness and not just idle musing, about escaping and slaying Danzo in the process.
“Poison would be the surest way to kill him,” Sakura opined. “There are so many different varieties out there that are slow acting and don’t show any immediate signs of poison until after death. And I serve him his meals occasionally, right after he is given his medicine. I can always poison the drink he takes to wash the foul flavor of the concoction down. He wouldn’t be able to notice a difference in taste.”
“A fine idea but Danzo is a paranoid man, especially since he knows I want to kill him and many of my previous forms favored snakes, serpents, or dragon-like beasts. I’ve heard he boosted his immunity to several poisons so if we choose poorly and select the one he’s immune to, then we wasted our time.” Orochimaru pointed out, stretching out his long, cumbersome physique in this rather cramped cell.
Undaunted, Sakura still pressed the venom route. “What about poisons that will simply immobilize him and prevent him from speaking or moving for a long time? Surely he wouldn’t have spent his time increading his defense for poison that won’t kill him outright or over time.”
Cocking his head, Orochimaru regarded her curiously at her suggestion. If Danzo was paralyzed like that, preferably in his bed, those close to him would raise their suspicions that this wasn’t natural and the work of some curse or toxin. On the other hand, if they measured the dose correctly and timed its effect exactly, then it could be possible to have the old devil at their mercy. That is, if he was predicting Sakura’s plan accurately.
“Are you suggesting we use a poison that will paralyze sometime in the night, rendering him unable to defend himself or call for help as we kill him?” he stated, making sure they were on the same page.
Sakura nodded, eyes resolved, her face grim. “Yes. Do you think that scheme would work?”
“It could, if we can get our hands on this specific poison. Cantarella, I believe it’s called. Do you know where you can obtain some?” Creating cantarella on their own would take far too long and even though shapeshifters were blessed with longevity, Orochimaru did not want to take any more risks with these nighttime lessons of theirs. Sooner or later, someone would notice Sakura’s odd nocturnal routines and investigate. And such nosiness could get them both butchered.
“Yes, I know someone. He poses as a traveling merchant and has no love for Danzo or this village. He won’t ask questions if I purchase the cantarella from him.”
Orochimaru hummed with approval. “Good, that issue is taken care of. Now, onto the other snag in this scheme of ours.” Lifting his head up, he gestured to the thick, old, and heinous brand embedded in his upper torso, located right on his upper left chest if he was a man. “This brand and the chains that bind me here prevent me from transforming. Since none of us know how to remove the brand or negate it completely, we need one the sealing rings the mages use to control whether or not a shapeshifter can change their form.”
Moving away from her spot on the hard, damp ground, Sakura approached the branded section and gingerly reached out to touch it, tracing the design slowly. “I think I can get one. It might take me a few days or a week to butter up the mage but I have a plan.” She turned her head towards him. “Trust me on this. By the end of this week, I will get us that ring and once we have it, then all we have to do next is administer the cantarella.”
“And not get caught in the process,” Orochimaru reminded soberly. “If Danzo or one of his supporters catches wind of our plot, then we’re good as dead.”
And this time, Danzo will skin me for certain, wyrm form and all.
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His concern on Sakura’s unspoken plan to get a sealing ring from a mage was apparently groundless. For by the end of the week, after she entered his cell in the form of a cat, he glimpsed the ring in her mouth. She dropped the item in front of her, a triumphant beam on her feline visage before steadily changing back into the petite, muscled young woman with short, cropped rose hair and jade eyes.
“How long do we have before the mage starts searching for his missing ring?” was the first question Orochimaru asked, not touching the said ring right away. For years he longed to get his hands on this trinket, to use its powers to nullify the brand’s power and finally control his own shape for a change. It didn’t matter whether he or Sakura used the ring, the magic inside would work and he could shift back into his human self again or take the form of another animal. They were lucky the sorcery within those rings could be accessed by anyone with just a simple word, a word Orochimaru heard often enough with his now almost twenty years of imprisonment.
Contemplating his query, Sakura scrunched her nose up to concentration on her estimation on the amount of time they had left to enact their wild scheme. “I think we have until morning. The sleeping potion I gave him will leave him knocked out the rest of the evening and night.”
Sleeping potion? If he had eyebrows in his wyrm form, Orochimary would have risen both of them. Only those who possessed enough knowledge and skills in medicine would boost such confidence in the lasting effects of a sleeping potion. No mere amateur could create a legitimate concoction that would actually work.
Sakura never ceased to surprise him.
“A shapeshifter and a practitioner of medicine? My, my, you must have an interesting story to tell. I must say, I’m rather impressed with your skillset.” Orochimaru remarked. He remembered a former comrade-in-arms who was a combat medic, the first in her line of work. By the time he murdered their former teacher, Sarutobi, she had already left the town and roamed the countryside to be with her lover, a civilian named Dan. If Danzo was now fully dominating this town, she would have been aghast and then incensed what became of her home.
Orochimaru hadn’t thought about Tsunade for a long time. Being chained in a dungeon and used for gladiatorial matches had a peculiar way of warping one’s memories and perception of time, it seemed.
Sakura brightened at his praise, the luster in her eyes practically illuminating his dim, dusky cell. “I’m happy to hear that, Orochimaru. Sleeping potion can be chancy, especially mixed with alcohol, but the mage I was charming earlier already wanted to spend some time alone with me after his shift. Getting the sleeping potion was actually harder than mixing it into his ale. By the time he wakes up tomorrow, he won't remember if we had a wild night or not.”
Mocking laughter percolated from the back of Orochimaru’s long, thick throat. Undone by the lust in his own loins. How insipidly easy.
“As long he won’t recall clearly and the potion lasts, we have our chance.” He nodded to the ring on the ground. “Use that thing on me. It’ll be easier for you to release the binding seal on me rather than myself.” His tail or mouth were much too enormous to hold the ring securely with dropping it or accidentally swallowing it. “All you need to do is chant ‘Release’ and I should be able to change my form at will.”
Sakura gifted him a skeptical look. “The word to use is ‘release’? Nothing else? Nothing more complicated?”
“I never said the mages under Danzo’s control were intelligent. Most of them are mindless drones. Danzo mass produces those rings to help all of his soldiers and assassins combat shapeshifters so of course he wants them to be easy to utilize.”
She glared at the offending ring on the ground prior to picking it up and slipping it under her finger. Her mouth opened and formed the lone word, her voice low, soft, but commanding.
“Release!”
He felt the brand heat up, the pin-prickling warmth uncomfortable at first prior to evanescing away into nothing. The shadow of control the brand had always rendered inside his mind and body was gone, replaced with an empty sensation that there was no magic this time to stop him from shifting.
His body grew smaller and assumed a new shape. His alabaster scales became white skin, long, luxurious hair the color of jet black cascading effortlessly down his scalp and past his shoulders and back, and he relished the feel of arms, legs, hands, and feet. The only part of him that remained the same was his golden eyes, outlined by violet markings.
Sakura stared up at him in wonder, holding the ring up for him to take and use for his own protection. “I’ve never seen you shapeshift before. You did so flawlessly...it’s like watching water move on its own.”
An indulgent half-smile slithered across his lips, accepting the ring and dropping the trinket over his pointer finger. “If you live long enough as I have, then you’ll be able to shift your body as swiftly and deftly as me.” His eyes roamed past Sakuraand over to the cell door behind them. There were no guards around but they still had to be cautious. They were so close to the final stages of their plot.
“I take it since you made plans to snatch this ring that you already are in possession of the cantarella?”
She nodded. “Yes, and I’ve been scheduled to bring Danzo his meal and drink tonight, with the physician who will feed him his medicine.” A black smirk spread across her fair visage. “I will be needed for this duty in less than an hour.”
He expected such news but the information was so welcoming and pleasing to him that his half-grin soon morphed into a smirk identical to hers. “Perfect. Go and make the preparations and let me know when it’s done. When night has fallen, we will shapeshift into an unnoticeable animal to enter his room. After that…” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if the two of them would just be wishing Danzo goodnight instead of murdering him in his bed. But the sinister, vindictive gleam in both of their gazes belied the softness of his tone. Orochimaru could imagine Danzo’s blood on his hands, coating the entire wall in a crimson palette. “Well, let’s give the people of this...amusing establishment something to chat about tomorrow morning.”
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The priceless, alarmed look in Danzo’s eyes would be forever burned in Orochimaru’s mind. There was a small fragrance of fear emitting from the usually prideful, smug hunter of shapeshifters, the tantalizing smell hovered so deliciously over him as the two shapeshifters approached the bed, a candle in both of their hands so Danzo could witness his assassins. The cantarella worked wonders for even now, Danzo could not move nor speak to save himself. All he could was listen. Listen and wait for his demise to come.
“I warned you all those years ago that killing me would have been wiser for you,” Orochimaru intoned darkly, his whispery words surely evoking the same memory from Danzo. The candlelight illuminated his amber eyes so clearly in the vacant darkness of the room. “But I shouldn’t be so rude and hog all the introductions. Sakura, dear, why don’t you jot Danzo’s recollection of you? Judging by the confused expression on his face, I say he doesn’t recall you.”
Danzo wheezed and grunted, mouth hanging up like a fish, but his fear was now replaced with utter rage.
In an instant, Sakura held a dagger over his chest, a silent snarl overcoming her mouth, her face promising no mercy and a slow, painful death. She glared at Danzo like he was vermin, not fit to even exist in this world. “I doubt you remember me, you bastard. Why would you, when you banned the women in this village the right to become warriors? And why would you care about some girl all those years ago, from a civilian family, who could not possibly be a threat to you? After all, it was her friend, that orphan boy whom the neighbors whispered about having shapeshifting powers and that he acted more like an animal than a boy? Isn’t that right?”
By now, in the midst of her ranting, Sakura had already begun to sink the blade into Danzo’s stomach and the old coot hacked, and then gurgled out wordless noises, his eyes wide as saucers. Although Danzo could not scream out his agony, Orochimaru still tore some of the bedsheets and stuffed them in his mouth, just in case. Sakura retracted her hand, only to plunge the dagger into another area of his abdomen once more.
“He was just a boy, Danzo! And he was my friend!” she growled, jade eyes ablaze with retribution, fury, contempt, and grief. Emotions Orochimaru comprehended all too well. He could never forget behelding his parents’ hides decorated in Danzo’s office, no matter how hard he tried. “His name was Naruto and you executed him for being a mischievous shapeshifter.” Again and again she stabbed, garnet holes oozing out of him and spreading outward to create morphless, endless streaks and designs, staining his clothes and sheets until the entire bed cover, once a bland beige color, now was dyed a deep burgundy hue. “But you missed one. You missed me, Sakura. All this time, I’ve been serving your food, pouring your drinks, and you didn’t fucking realize a shapeshifter was amongst you this whole time.” She spat in his wrinkled countenance, giving the dagger another savage twist before she rend the weapon out and handed the blade to Orochimaru.
Your turn, she seemed to convey.
He tilted his head at her as a silent ‘thank you’, the hilt of the sanguinary, jagged dagger warm, consoling, and solid against his palm. He rested the edge of the dagger against Danzo’s throat, the point delicately piercing the skin of that center bulge. “I know based on how much blood you have already lost thanks to Sakura’s wonderfully enthusiastic work that you don’t have long for this world. So in your last fleeting moments, I am going to fulfill my promise to you and take my pound of flesh.” Danzo’s eyes bulged in recognition, his chin soaked with his drool.
Orochimaru cackled. Excellent, he still remembers my first threat to him before he cast me into the dungeons.
“That’s right, Danzo. I’ve come to carve out your heart at last.”
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When he and Sakura changed into bats and flew out of the open window Sakura had left ajar hours earlier, when she added the cantarella into Danzo’s drink, the sun was barely reaching the tips of the hills and bringing faint tinges of purples, pinks, and oranges to the night sky. By the time the servants opened the door and witnessed the gruesome display of what little remained of Danzo, the two shapeshifters would be a distant memory and far from the village’s reach.
“What will you do now that Danzo’s dead? You can shapeshift on your own quite well.”
At his question, Sakura frowned. “I’m not sure. I always assumed I’d die right after assassinating Danzo so I never really figured out the part of what comes next.” She combed through her lush, pink hair, her fingers untangling any stubborn knots. “But I recently heard some shapeshifters live away from humans and formed their settlement. Perhaps we could find them and live amongst them?”
Funny how she included him in her idea. Yet Orochimaru didn’t protest. It wasn’t as ifhe had any fine plans of his own and besides his parents, there was no one else in the world who cared about him. Save for Sakura.
“I suppose that idea has merit,” he admitted, pretending not to notice the delighted sparkle in her verdant gaze or the way her lips curled upwards in triumph. “Let’s give your plan a try and see if we’re lucky enough to find more of our own.”
Much to his surprise, she reached over to grab his hand and held onto it, a small smile gracing her lips. “Even if we don’t, we won’t be alone. I’m…” She swallowed briefly before resuming. “I’m grateful...and delighted to have you in my life, Orochimaru.”
He squeezed her hand fondly, the right words caught in his throat. So was he.
Regardless, Sakura understood his unspoken sentiment and continued to grin ever brighter for the rest of the day.
